


Homeward Bound

by FantasySwap



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 1700s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternative Universes - Poldark, Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, Poldark AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-02-08 19:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18629632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap
Summary: "Wait," he pants, ignoring the dirty looks of several disgruntled customers that he had to push past. "I need a kitchen maid."There's a pause, and then Klaus says, "What? Do I look like a kitchen maid to you?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirius_bucky_solo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius_bucky_solo/gifts).



> Massive happy birthday to sirius_bucky_solo! Thank you so much for making me watch this amazing show and graciously letting me spam you about it, I hope you enjoy and have a great day. <3<3
> 
> You don’t need to have watched Poldark for any of this to make sense, but you definitely should watch it cause it’s great!

His hometown looks different now, after the war. It had never been a fairy tale to Diego, and he’d always been honest about its flaws, but it’s never looked quite as bleak as it does now. Maybe years of conflict have darkened his perspective a little, but as he rides through the cobbled streets on his way back to his old home he can’t help but notice how different everything seems.

 

His house isn’t far from town, but it isn’t in the bustling centre either. He misses it after so long of being in the presence of other soldiers, misses the privacy and the tranquil silence of his own home. He doesn’t have a large estate like Luther, but then he’s never needed half as much as Luther seemed to in order to be happy. He’s happy with what he has, and he’ll be even happier when he gets out of this godforsaken town and gets there.

 

There’s a market on, and the streets are lined with stalls. People are crowding the roads, leading horses around by the harness and yelling out expletives at a seller they seem to disagree with. It brings a smile to Diego’s face despite himself; he has missed this, the company of others even if it’s no one in particular. He urges his horse forward.

 

There’s a small group gathered around a particular spot to his left, being obnoxiously louder than the others. At first Diego thinks they’re gathered around a dog fight - people haven’t changed in the years he’s been gone, then - but the closer he gets the more he starts to doubt it. Diego finds dog fighting abhorrent, but it’s the lesser of two evils and it seems like these people are engaging in the worse.

 

There’s a kid on the floor, in the middle of the group surrounded by the angry villagers. Diego can’t quite get a look at him but he’s small and scrawny, dressed in simple brown pants and a billowing white shirt with wild brown curls and an unhealthy pallor to his skin. He doesn’t look like a typical farmer’s son and, perhaps consequently, he’s curled up into a ball rather than fighting back.

 

“Hey!” Diego is shouting before he can stop himself, voice commanding authority almost instantaneously thanks to his years in the army. The villagers pause, and when some of them see who it is they scatter with a frightened cry. Diego hops down off his horse with practised ease and hands the harness off to the boy hovering outside the nearest pub, watching with anxious eyes.

 

“That’s enough.” He says firmly, striding into the circle and brushing easily past the ringleader. The man glowers at him, but backs down as Diego gets a hand cupped around the boy’s elbow and hauls him upwards. Ignoring the rest of the crowd and instead focusing on the boy next to him, he asks, “Are you alright?”

 

His voice is gruff - it always has been, and Eudora always teased him about perpetually sounding pissed off - but the child doesn’t flinch. Instead he curls into Diego’s side and shakes like a leaf. He hadn’t been intending to pick up yet another responsibility before he even arrived home, but he can’t abandon the boy now; he’s obviously hurt, and it isn’t as though Diego can just release him back to the angry mob waiting for him from the side, ready to kick the shit out of him some more.

 

With a sigh he inclines his head and wraps an arm around the boy’s trembling shoulders. It’s easy leading him into the pub, and as soon as he’s out of the cold he seems to get his spirits back a little; there’s a trail of blood running from his nose and over his top lip which he wipes away carelessly with the back of his hand, and he’s clutching his ribs in a way that lets Diego know there will be a collection of nasty bruises there tomorrow.

 

“Sit down,” Diego instructs him and gives him a light shove towards a seat. He sounds harsher than he actually feels, but the boy bristles anyway.

 

Diego gets a drink for himself and some food for the boy with only a few words exchanged, and carries them back to the table quickly. Closer up the boy is older than he’d first thought, twenty one or twenty two perhaps to Diego’s twenty seven, but he’s also a lot prettier than he’d first thought. Despite the thinness of his face and the unhealthy pale tone of his skin he has a glint in his eye that reminds Diego of so many of the men he met during the war. Defiance, he recognises. Spirit.

 

“What’s your name, kid?” Diego asks, sliding into the seat opposite. The boy scowls at him but his hand creeps towards the sandwich Diego bought him eagerly, and when Diego takes a swig of his beer the boy rips into the food like he hasn’t eaten in years.

 

“Klaus.” He spits out through mouthfuls. Diego raises an eyebrow - apparently he wasn’t raised by nobility, then, if his manners are anything to go by - but let’s it go.

 

“Where are you from?” Diego continues, drinking slowly. Some colour is returning to Klaus’ cheeks now, from the warmth or the room and the meal, and it only serves to make him look prettier. Klaus narrows his eyes at him.

 

“Near here.” He answers cryptically, then seems to change his mind about the man that rescued him from a beating and bought him lunch. “Live with my father, and my brother. Should probably be getting back there.”

 

Diego is about to shrug it off and get back on his way when something catches his eye. Klaus’ shirt hangs loosely around his shoulders, and right there, just over his collarbone, is a large, yellowing bruise. It’s too colourful to have been caused by the fight just minutes ago; Diego is leaning forward before he can stop himself, fingers dipping just under the collar of his shirt and pulling it back a little. Klaus stiffens and freezes for a second before recoiling, tugging his shirt over himself fully.

 

"What happened?" Diego demands, disregarding Klaus' defensive look. It's fairly obvious what must have happened - sadly it's not as rare as Diego would like it to be - but he needs Klaus to say it himself or he can't be sure.

 

He's half expecting Klaus to keep up the unnecessary mysticism but the boy just shrugs and raises a challenging eyebrow at Diego. "My father," he replies, the corner of his mouth twisted up in a sharp, humourless smile. "Wasn't happy with me."

 

"Does that happen often?" Diego asks, not rising to the bait. There's an uncomfortable feeling in his chest: the sense of injustice rising and being helpless to stop it. Klaus, who by now has finished the sandwich, reaches out hesitantly and pulls Diego's drink towards himself. Diego considers stopping him, but there's hardly any alcohol left and he just had one hell of a beating. He could use it.

 

"Him not being happy with me?" Klaus asks cheekily.

 

"Him hitting you." Diego growls, unamused. The smirk falls from Klaus' face and Diego only had half a second to feel guilty before he's pushing his chair away from the table, preparing to storm off.

 

"Thanks for the food, sir, but I really ought to be getting back." His words drip contempt and when he turns and dashes away, brown curls bouncing as he goes, it takes Diego by surprise. The little bastard can really run when he wants to, but Diego has years of military training to fall back on and he catches Klaus just as he reaches the door. Unthinking, he wraps a hand tight around the boy's forearm, holds him still and steady as he catches his breath.

 

"Wait," he pants, ignoring the dirty looks of several disgruntled customers that he had to push past. "I need a kitchen maid."

 

It's true - he imagines Hazel and Cha-Cha will have destroyed the place in his absence, and neither of them were very good cooks anyway - but he could do without for a while. He's really only doing this so this kid, Klaus, can get away from a spectacularly shit home life. Diego hopes he's not too proud to take the out— he knows he would be.

 

There's a pause, and then Klaus says, "What? Do I look like a kitchen maid to you?"

 

Diego gives him a conspicuous once over and whether or not his thoughts are clear on his face he doesn’t know, but Klaus swallows and blushes a little. Diego nods, not necessarily a confirmation but rather a decision made, and Klaus sighs in response. Diego takes that as an agreement, and holds open the door for him.

 

It only takes about half an hour from there to get home. Diego rides with Klaus sitting in front of him, between his legs, clutching Diego’s legs behind him for balance. He isn’t sure if Klaus has never ridden before but he looks terrified, and it’s sort of fun to act like his hero for the second time in one day.

 

When the house comes into view Diego can’t help but smile. It’s bigger than he remembers, but maybe that’s because he’s been living in tents for years and any building made of brick would look like a palace. The grounds are viciously overgrown and at least two windows are shattered, but Diego remembers it when the fire was lit and it was filled with life and laughter. It’s home, and he’s glad to be back.

 

Klaus doesn’t look as relieved, but he isn’t scowling anymore and he doesn’t seem like he’s disgusted by the sight of Diego’s house. Diego swings a leg over the side and slides off his horse first, holding a hand up for Klaus to take to steady himself. He takes it, hand soft and small and warm in Diego’s own, and when he hits the ground he stumbles a little, falling into Diego’s chest.

 

“Easy,” Diego chuckles, patting the boy’s shoulder and pointedly ignoring the way his t-shirt slips down a little. Diego’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden, and maybe hiring a kitchen maid he desperately wants to get inside of was a bad idea but it’s too late to back out now, and Klaus’ safety is more important than Diego’s sensibility.

 

“C’mon,” Diego says gravely. “I’ll show you round.”

 

***

 

He’s tall, is the first thing that Klaus really notices about the man that saves him. He’s tall and broad shouldered with a sharp jaw and a scar running all the way from his eyebrow to the side of his face. He’s breathtakingly handsome, and when he stands over Klaus with a hand outstretched, looking so powerful like a goddamn angel, Klaus had been helpless against it. He had followed the man like a lost puppy and it brought him here, to a lonely house in the middle of nowhere as a kitchen maid.

 

It’s unmistakably better than his own house - though not many places could be worse - but it’s unfamiliar and unfamiliar things scare him. Even his father hitting him daily would be better than going to a strange place with strange people.

 

And yet here he is, being introduced as a kitchen maid of all things to Diego’s two housekeepers with no clue what he’s doing here.

 

Diego is a soldier, that much is obvious from the uniform, but it’s more than that. He’s good - or he seems to be at least - and he gave Klaus a home without a second thought. He pushed his way through an angry crowd of villagers to save a person he didn’t even know. That makes him a good person in Klaus’ eyes; it makes him someone Klaus wants to serve.

 

The housekeepers are an odd pair, Klaus decides after knowing them for less than five minutes. Hazel and Cha-Cha - weird names, but then they’re weird people - and they glare suspiciously at Klaus until he’s cowering behind Diego like a child. They argue incessantly and talk in a way Klaus doesn’t understand, using words and phrases that only make sense to each other. Diego looks on with a fond smile, shaking his head and looking at the front of the building like he can’t quite believe he’s really back here.

 

“C’mon,” Diego whispers suddenly, low and insistent into Klaus’ ear. Then there’s a hand on the small of his back, fingers spread wide and bleeding warmth through the fabric. “I hope you’re a quick learner, because we have a lot of work to do.”

 

Klaus is not at all surprised.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Luther’s estate looms intimidatingly over Diego as he rides towards it, up the path and to the large front door. This place has never seemed like a home to him - it’s too grand, too lavish when so many people have nothing - and now, after so many years, it’s even more unfamiliar to him. Even so it’s nice to see it again, and he’s even more excited to see the people he knows will be inside.

 

A maid opens the door for him, and shrieks a little when she sees who it is. Diego had thought maybe news of his arrival would have made its way around town by now but judging by her shocked expression maybe everyone here is unaware.

 

He thanks the maid with a friendly if awkward smile and offers to find the dining hall by himself, figuring he should try not to traumatise her forever. He’s walked these halls a hundred times already and he knows the route like the back of his hand, so everything comes back to him easily. The door to the dining hall is closed when he comes upon it but he’s sure they won’t have a problem with being interrupted when they see who it is.

 

The first person to notice him, naturally, is Ben; he’s always been Diego’s most perceptive relative and this time is no different. Luther is in the middle of saying something but he stops short when Ben pushes back from the table, his chair scraping the floor noisily, and flings himself into Diego’s arms.

 

“Oh my _god_ , I knew you’d be okay!” He cries as Diego wraps his arms around his cousin in return. They hear a loud, pointed cough from the side and Diego releases Ben to see Luther watching them, a conflicted half smile on his face.

 

“Ben,” Luther says reproachfully. Ben flushes a bit and straights his clothes, taking his seat again but pulling out a chair for Diego to sit on. “Please, join us. It’s so good to see you again, cousin. You look well!”

 

The surge of anger that flared up at Luther’s careless treatment of Ben dies down just as quickly, and he takes the seat that’s offered to him. “Likewise,” He answers, and finds to his surprise he genuinely does mean it. For once he really is happy to hear Luther’s voice.

 

“It’s wonderful to be back, and to see you all.” Diego looks around the table at each person. There’s Luther and Ben, his cousins, Reginald, his spectacularly unfriendly uncle, Five, who simply showed up one day and to which Diego was given no explanation, and then—

 

“Allison,” Diego is speaking before he can stop himself. It’s been so long since he saw her, and he’s sure their relationship can only have become more twisted and confusing since he’s been gone. They’re best friends - or they were, at least - and perhaps could have been something more. He had _wished_ them to be something more, but then the war came and… well. And now here he is.

 

She’s watching him, shellshocked, and he can’t believe he didn’t notice her before now. She looks every bit as beautiful as she always does and he smiles dopily at her from across the table, only frowning when she exchanges a nervous glance with Luther.

 

“How lovely to have you back, Diego.” Five interrupts their silent non-conversation with a sarcastic smile and a raised glass. “And just in time for the good news as well!”

 

Ben’s fork clatters to the table, a sudden, surprising noise in the silence that falls ominously over the room. Diego doesn’t quite understand the deadly look he shoots Five, but he smiles anyway and tilts his head questioningly.

 

“What good news would that be?” He asks. Beside him, Ben exhales shakily.

 

“Luther is engaged.” Five answers simply and sits back in his chair to sip his drink, a self satisfied smirk on his face.

 

“Really?” Diego turns to his cousin, grinning. “That’s excellent! Who’s the lucky girl?”

 

Luther swallows, his face going a startling shade of red, and clears his throat. He exchanges a glance with Allison and, oh, okay. Diego knows what his answer will be before he even says it, can suddenly see the way the two are sitting so close together with their bodies angled towards each other. He can see by the way their arms disappear under the table that they must be holding hands under there, and there’s no reason for that other than—

 

“Allison.” Luther answers simply.

 

In some ways Diego is glad he doesn’t bother trying to make excuses or explain himself further. Diego already feels something inside his chest cracking a little and he has to work hard to keep it together in front of all his relatives; he doesn’t think he could handle it if Luther started blabbering on about it for any longer.

 

“That’s… wonderful.” Diego says as evenly as possible, but Ben’s wince tells him he doesn’t quite manage to sound unaffected. “Really, I’m very happy for you both.”

 

He stands before anyone can reply. Luther stands with him and takes a step forward like maybe he wants to hug Diego but he’s scared of what the other man will do.

 

“Won’t you stay for lunch?” He asks in a small, worried voice. Diego clenches his jaw so hard a muscle tics.

 

“I must be going, I’m afraid.” He replies stiltedly. “I have a lot of work to get through back home. Please feel free to visit me whenever you like, though. It was lovely seeing you all again, but I really must be going.”

 

Diego doesn’t even care that he’s repeating himself. As soon as he’s finished speaking he turns and walks out of the room as quickly as he can manage, the heels of his boots clicking on the floor with every step. He can hear footsteps behind him and, just before he reaches the front door, someone catches his arm.

 

“Ben,” Diego breathes, simultaneously relieved that it’s Ben that came after him and devastated that anyone came after him at all.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ben says softly, reaching out and gripping Diego’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have found out like that.

 

Diego shakes his head and shrugs it off. “I was going to find out sooner or later.” He says, resigned. “It’s better that I hear it from them.”

 

Ben stays silent about that but Diego can tell he’s uncomfortable. He’s had to live with their family his entire life and he’s been treated poorly all that time, simply because he’s older than Luther and isn’t yet married. Diego can’t see how he hasn’t grown to resent them yet, but Ben has always been nicer than anyone he knows.

 

“Hey,” Diego starts, wanting desperately to get out of here and just go home. “Why don’t you come homewith me and see what I’ve done with the place?”

 

***

 

Klaus only really notices his new employer was out when he returns, slamming the door shut with a loud clatter . Angry footsteps echo down the corridor towards the kitchen and Klaus barely has time to straighten out his shirt and smooth back his hair in the hopes of looking presentable in front of Diego when the man himself walks in. Only, he isn’t alone.

 

There’s a man with him, who hurries in after Diego before the door can swing shut behind him. He’s shorter than Diego but taller than Klaus, with dark hair swept back elegantly and a refined albeit simple outfit on: a long, sweeping black jacket over a simple white shirt and plain trousers. He has kind eyes, Klaus thinks, but right now they’re filled with anxiety. It’s only then that Klaus realises his examination of their guest has prevented him from really taking in Diego’s appearance.

 

He looks pissed.

 

In fact he looks so angry that it’s bordering hysterical: his hair is sticking up in mad directions like he’s been running his fingers through it wildly and his jaw is clenched so tightly Klaus is surprised the sound of his teeth grinding together isn’t perfectly audible. Klaus blinks at him, wide eyed and nervous, before swallowing and doing his best to curtesy. Diego doesn’t even pay enough attention to notice his efforts.

 

“Diego?” The stranger prompts after a few awkward seconds of silence, wherein Klaus stands uncomfortably still with bread dough all over his hands. Diego grunts unhelpfully and for a second Klaus thinks he might just be about to walk right out the door again, but eventually he shrugs and looks between them.

 

“I hired a kitchen maid. Ben, this is Klaus. Klaus, this is Ben: my cousin.” He waves a hand between them airily before turning his back on the two and rifling through the satchel bag he had left on the kitchen table earlier that morning. Klaus looks away quickly before he can be caught staring at his master’s hand, thick fingers spread wide. He hopes he isn’t blushing when he turns to Ben.

 

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” He greets, attempting a curtesy again. “If there’s anything you need—”

 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Ben interrupts quickly, looking even more uncomfortable than Klaus if that’s possible. He risks a glance at Diego’s back but only sighs and shakes his head. “Please, call me Ben.”

 

Klaus likes Ben, likes the way he speaks, likes the way he instantly feels at ease with him rather than having his heart set racing at the threat of violence. He sticks his hand out unthinkingly for Ben to shake at the same time that Diego looks over his shoulder, glowering darkly at both of them.

 

“Messy,” He mutters, directing a glare at Klaus’ flour covered hand, but it seems less reproachful and more informative; almost as though he’s simply reminding Klaus. It should not make Klaus blush or fill his head with scenarios of Diego calling him messy in different situations, but if his cheeks flush a little he can easily claim embarrassment at being so presumptuous.

 

“Ah, my apologies, sir.” Klaus stammers, wiping his hand on his shirt before he can think better of it. “I’ll have this finished as soon as possible. Then I can maybe work on tidying your office a little, sir?”

 

Technically Klaus wasn’t allowed in Diego’s office - it had been one of the first things he’d been told when Diego had given him the grand tour - but he’d caught sight of it when his master had left the door open earlier on and it really is a tip. Just the thought of being employed to clean in a house with a room as dirty as that makes Klaus feel guilty.

 

But it seems Diego doesn’t see it that way. He levels Klaus with a look so insistent that Klaus struggles not to fidget on the spot; Diego’s eyes are blazing and he sounds deadly serious when he says, “You are not to go in my office, do you understand?”

 

Klaus nods quickly and says nothing, casting his eyes downwards in what he hopes is a sign of reverence. He’s had to live in a family of alpha males his whole life, surrounded at first by his toxic father who was then joined by Klaus’ equally toxic brother, so he likes to think he’s got the submissive, apologetic expression down perfectly.

 

Diego grunts again, monosyllabic at best, and shoulders his way past Klaus. He’s out of the kitchen within seconds, long strides taking him across the land visible from the kitchen window towards the barn where Hazel and Cha-Cha must still be asleep, and Klaus tried very hard not to focus on the point of contact where Diego’s shoulder brushed his.

 

In front of him, Ben shuffles a little and sticks his hands in his pockets.

 

“It’s not you,” he says after a few moments of Klaus dusting his hands off. “Diego, I mean. He’s just in a bad mood, it’s nothing you’ve done.”

 

“Oh,” Klaus bites his bottom lip, glancing out the window to see Diego gesturing wildly at Hazel, who staggers a little like he’s still drunk from last night’s ale. “I see. Do you mind me asking why, sir?”

 

“It’s Ben.” Ben reminds him, smiling gently to soften his words, and then sighs. “It’s… complicated. I’m sure you’re aware he just got back from war. Diego visited my family’s house this morning. He discovered that his cousin and his ex fiancé are now engaged. It would seem he hasn’t taken the news as well as he pretended to back there.”

 

And— okay, that uncurls a heavy, disappointed feeling in his stomach that he can’t explain. It feels like a weight has been attached to his heart and is slowly tugging, tugging it down. He tries to cover up his mixed emotions with a mask of sympathetic neutrality.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.” He replies, and then quickly amends at the arched eyebrow he gets in response. “I mean, Ben.”

 

“Yes, well,” Ben shrugs. “It wouldn’t be the first time Diego has—”

 

That’s all he has time to say before Diego is bursting in again, this time with a more bitter facial expression than he had when he left. His shirt is covered with mud and straw and a quick glimpse out the window confirms that Hazel is too. He unbuttons the garment quickly and efficiently and slings it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs; Klaus tries to ignore all the bare skin on display, but it’s difficult. Diego is so different to anyone Klaus has met before. The men his father had visiting were all filthy with untamed beards and disgusting breath and groping, unpredictable hands. Diego is none of those things: muscles ripple in his back with every new movement and there are a smattering of pale scars all over the skin that Klaus wants to map out, wants to connect each one with his tongue.

 

He busies himself by reaching out for Diego’s shirt, hoping that washing the fabric will distract him from the thought of washing Diego, soap suds and drops of water making their way in rivulets down his back as Klaus’ hands get lower and lower—

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” It takes a moment for Klaus to realise Diego is speaking to him, and another to recognise to tone of irritation in his voice. He blinks back into the real world to find the shirt clutched in his hands and Diego watching him with a scowl. He snatches his clothing back out of Klaus’ hands.

 

“I— I was meaning to wash your shirt, sir.” Klaus stutters in reply, confused. What could he possibly have done wrong here? Isn’t the whole point of a maid to do the jobs that need to be done? “I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

 

“Fuck boundaries,” Diego spits, so vehemently that it startles Klaus. It isn’t like he hasn’t heard vulgar language before - his father wasn’t the most refined man, nor was the company he kept - but somehow hearing it from Diego’s mouth feels wrong. “You wait until you’re given an order, do you understand?”

 

Klaus flushes now, feeling humiliated. Diego is so damn confusing, every second Klaus spends with him he has to rewrite the version of his master that he thought he had just figured out. Diego doesn’t like to have to spell things out for him, Diego doesn’t like it when he takes initiative. What can he do to please this man?

 

“Yes, sir, of course. My apologies.” Klaus gets out in a small voice, even though he feels that he shouldn’t have to apologise.

 

Diego just sneers and waves a hand like his apology is useless. He starts walking towards the other door, the one that leads to the sitting room and his office, but Klaus can head him muttering something about a ‘mistake’ on his way out and he can feel his stomach drop to his feet.

 

Ben winces in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, sounding genuinely empathetic, but Klaus isn’t particularly moved by his sympathy. “I’ll go talk to him.”

 

Ben hurries after Diego and, once again, Klaus is left alone with his thoughts. Maybe moving here like this wasn’t such a good idea. He made the decision so fast, without any consideration for anything else, and look where it’s gotten him. He doesn’t know Diego, not really; whilst the man may have seemed like a nice person at first, what if this is the real him? What if the real him is bitchy and snappy and mean, and Klaus just agreed to be his kitchen maid without telling anyone?

 

Maybe this whole endeavour has been a mistake. Maybe it would be better for anyone if he just… left. Diego could find another kitchen maid easily; Klaus isn’t special after all.

 

He straightens the chairs under the table before he leaves, a parting gift for Diego. He doesn’t really have any belongings to take with him - only a second set of clothes, but he wouldn’t want to risk bumping into Diego again to get those - so he can start the walk home straight away, without even having to look back.

 

There’s an uncomfortable sense of dread looming over him as he walks; he’s walking back to a life of chores and beatings and disinterest. His family don’t care for him any more than Diego does - in fact Diego has probably showed more kindness towards him than his father has in all his life - but better the devil you know, Klaus figures.

 

He’s almost reached the very edge of Diego’s land and his legs are already getting tired when a voice stops him. Klaus spins around to find Diego, perched on a horse a few metres away, watching him.

 

“You weren’t thinking of leaving, were you?” He calls. Klaus can’t think of a single thing to say to that, and he reckons it’s pretty obvious that he was intending to leave, so he just stays quiet. Diego continues anyway. “I thought I might not reach you in time.”

 

What is that supposed to mean? He can’t imagine Diego realising he’s gone and leaping on a horse, riding off into the sunset to look for Klaus in order to bring him back. His confusion must show on his face because Diego sighs and looks down in a parody of what Klaus had done earlier, like he has something to be ashamed of.

 

“Ben has informed me,” he says stiffly. “That I was being too harsh on you. I’ve come to apologise.”

 

Klaus swallows and looks from side to side, as if any second now an ambush will appear out of nowhere. This surely can’t be genuine, because the rich and powerful don’t apologise to people like Klaus, people who can’t afford to live off their own livelihood so they live off other people’s. He can only imagine what people would say if they found out.

 

When he doesn’t reply for a while, Diego’s features soften and, for a brief second, Klaus thinks he sees a hint of fondness in his eyes.

 

“Klaus,” He says pleadingly. “I am sorry. I took out my anger on you and I shouldn’t have: that wasn’t fair of me. I’d very much like you to stay, if that’s something you want as well.”

 

Is it? Why had he been planning to leave again? Klaus is aware he’s one hundred percent pathetic, but when given a choice between an abusive family or the way Diego’s big brown eyes look when he begs, he knows which one he’s choosing.

 

“Okay,” He whispers, edging closer slowly. He takes the hand Diego offers to him and allows himself to be pulled up onto the horse, to settle between the man’s legs and rest his back against Diego’s chest. He knows he can’t have this really - Diego’s heart belongs to someone else, as Ben had told him earlier - but it’s still warm and solid and reassuring for Klaus to let himself be surrounded like this, by Diego’s warmth and smell and body. He wants to let himself have this, just for a little longer.

 

As an afterthought, he adds on, “Sir.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Maybe coming back was a mistake. Diego hadn't necessarily set out with the intention of returning, but the events of a few days ago still feel a little surreal in Diego's memory— like maybe he's still in a coma in a filthy war hospital and all of this is just a product of his disturbed imagination. So when Diego wakes for the third time in a row, sheets drenched with sweat and panting from a nightmare still fresh in his mind, he decided enough is enough. He has to face his problems face on, even if that's the last thing he wants to do.

 

Allison and Ben are outside as he rides closer, and they must see him coming all the way from across the grounds. He steels himself and tugs the reigns a little harder, canters forward until he's right outside the front door, beautiful and intimidating as ever. As though from nowhere, Ben appears by his side, holding his hand out to take the reign with an expression that clearly says, 'talk to her.' Diego hesitates as he gets down - he doesn't agree with the way people treat Ben like a maid just for being unmarried, and he doesn't particularly want to be alone with Allison now it's clear that this was not, in fact, a dream - but he hasn't come all this way for nothing.

 

"Thank you," he murmurs gratefully to Ben, and gets a slight smile in return. The sound of horses hooves against the gravel fade into the distance, and Diego turns to Allison. She looks gorgeous today as always, hair scraped back into a delicate style and dressed in a deep red dress that puffs out around her waist. Diego thinks he has one of her old dresses in his house still, stores away for safe keeping.

 

"Diego," Allison starts, smiling tentatively. "How are you? You look well."

 

Diego nods, hating the menial small talk, but he has no idea what else to say to her and he fears an uncomfortable silence more than anything. He smiles and forces himself to be still, not to shuffle his feet.

 

"Yes, thank you." Diego coughs. "You do too, by the way. You look— you look beautiful, Allison." Her face softens, and for a second Diego thinks something he said has gotten through to her: something changes in her eyes, in the way she's looking at him, and he holds his breath hopefully.

 

"Diego—" she starts, and then there's a heavy hand clapping down on his shoulder, sending him stumbling forward a few steps and startling them both.

 

"Diego!" Luther grins, voice tight. There's a reluctantly suspicious look in his eyes. "Wonderful to see you again? What are you doing here?" And Diego definitely isn't imagining the way his smile fades into something sharper, meaner."

 

Diego sighs, exchanging one last incomprehensible look with Allison before turning to Luther with as friendly a smile as he can muster. "I just wanted to apologise," he says. "For the way I left the other evening. Things came as quite a shock as I'm sure you can imagine, but it was wrong of me to leave like that."

 

And then Luther gives the most infuriating little laugh and says, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

 

Diego has never been well known for controlling his temper.

 

"Oh, really?" He raises an eyebrow, hands curling into fists instinctively by his side. Luther is bigger than him, broader around the shoulders and stronger too, but Diego is a fighter. Diego went to war and back, and you don't do that without learning how to take out an opponent twice your size.

 

"Careful, cousin." Luther says warningly. “You wouldn’t want to forget your place.”

 

And that’s _it_. Diego and Luther had never really gotten on before he went to war, but it would seem that now he’s back their relationship is even more strained. Even so, there’s no way Diego is going to let Luther just walk all over him. Fuck no.

 

But then, before he can wind his fist back to land a punch, there’s a hand on his shoulder; he turns to see the top of Five’s head, dark hair ruffled by the wind. As soon as Diego sees him the kid draws his hand back and crosses his arms over his chest irritatedly, tapping his foot against the ground in that ridiculous uniform he always seems to be wearing.

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Diego.” He says simply. Diego inhales slowly, taking a moment to actually calm down and think. The kid has a point— his eyes dart between Luther and Five and, eventually, to Allison. She’s watching in dismay, arms wrapped around her middle in an action that reminds him suddenly of Klaus.

 

“Allison—” He starts guilty, but she turns away.

 

“Go, Diego.” She says miserably. “Just go.”

 

***

 

Klaus is screwed. Massively. He's been in tricky situations before, growing up with an abusive father hadn't really been all that fun, but he thinks this particular problem is bigger even than that, because he has no hope of solving it. He has absorbed no solution.

 

Klaus has a crush. On Diego, no less. His employer, his master, and Klaus wants nothing more than to serve him in every meaning of the word. It wouldn't be so bad if Diego wasn't so damn inaccessible, if he he wasn't so angry all the time. The only time Klaus has ever seen him smile is when he had tried to leave and Diego had come after him, asked him to stay. Other than that he's always frowning, always looks so serious and severe; Klaus just wants to make him smile.

 

The man is out at the moment - he left earlier on with a surly expression and a muttered excuse - and Klaus is here, cleaning. He's been over the whole house, set some bread to bake and hung out Diego's clothes to dry. Almost certainly he'd have more work to do at home and maybe that's why he's so fucking bored. He wants to do something - to sing or read or even just talk - but he's all alone, and the only books are in Diego's office.

 

He sighs and sits heavily on the chest by the window, intending to stare out of it until Diego returns, but to his surprise the lid to the chest bounces. He frowns and slides to his knees on the floor, lifting the lid with a groan.

 

Inside there's a dress: dark green and velvety, with a puffy skirt and a tight bodice. It's a bit musty from being shoved in a box for so long but Klaus is able to shake most of the wrinkles out of it, and when he holds it up against his body it fits well. With a quick glance over his shoulder Klaus makes a split second decision; Diego hasn't been home for hours, what are the chances he'll return in the next few minutes?

 

He steps out of his trousers and peels the t-shirt off, stepping into the dress and pulling it up to his shoulders. It’s a little baggy around the chest, empty where a girl would fill it out, but the soft material hugs his hips. It feels… right. He’s always been intrigued by women’s clothes, the way their hair is always so pretty, their faces made up elegantly. Standing here like this he feels something slotting into place. He never wants to take it off—

 

“What are you doing?” Diego’s voice is sharp behind him, makes him jump in sudden fright. He spins around and his hands move to smooth his skirts automatically; Diego’s expression darkens when he sees this.

 

“I’m sorry,” Klaus stammers immediately, cringing away as Diego strides closer. “I didn’t mean—”

 

“Take it off.” Diego demands, and Klaus shuts his mouth in surprise. When he doesn’t reply, Diego’s hand flies out and grips Klaus’ wrist tightly, fingers encircling it entirely and feeling the pulse under his palm.

 

“You think you can just do what you want here? Like you’re in charge?” Diego shakes Klaus’ arm and Klaus whimpers, his hair falling in front of his eyes and providing a curtain for him to hide behind. “Take it off. Klaus, take it off or _I_ _will_!”

 

Klaus inhales sharply. Even Diego blinks in surprise, shocked at his own words; he releases Klaus’ wrist like he burnt him and takes a few staggering steps backwards. Klaus, not quite daring to believe it, sees that Diego’s pupils are blown wide. He stumbles out of the room and disappears into his bedroom in silence, leaving Klaus breathless with his heart beating an unsteady rhythm in his chest. Did that even just happen?

 

With shaky legs and trembling hands, Klaus takes a step forward. He doesn’t bother knocking on Diego’s door when he walks in— and this really could ruin everything, it could decide his future, whether he stays or is forced to leave.

 

“What are you doing?” Diego asks, but his voice is softer now. Calmer.

 

“It—” He takes a deep breath, looks up at Diego from under his eyelashes and turns in a slow half circle. “It unbuttons down the back. Could you?”

 

For a second Diego hesitates and Klaus holds his breath; then he reaches out and his hand brushes over Klaus’ bare shoulders, bleeding warmth into his skin. Diego’s fingers dance down his neck to his shoulder blades as his other hand joins in, unbuttoning the dress one by one until it starts to slip and fall to the ground. Standing completely naked in front of Diego, he feels totally exposed and horribly, wonderfully vulnerable.

 

“If we do this,” Diego murmurs into his neck, warm air ghosting over his sensitive skin and leaving goosebumps. “People will talk. They’ll find out.”

 

As long as Klaus has Diego to protect him, to save him from the angry crowds like he did that first time, he really doesn’t care. “Let them,” He says softly in return. Almost instantly Diego’s hands are on him, sliding over his sides and down to the curve of his hips, turning him round gently and moving to cup his ass. Diego has big hands and long, elegant fingers that squeeze a little when he lets out a surprised, breathy gasp. Klaus, refusing to meet Diego’s gaze, stares intently at his feet with a blush burning at his cheeks until Diego brings a single finger under his chin and raises it.

 

“Are you with me?” Diego asks seriously, and Klaus just stares at him with wide eyes. Nobody has ever checked up on him like that before and whilst this isn’t too surprising since he’s never actually done this with anybody before, he still thinks that the people he used to spend time with wouldn’t be so courteous.

 

“Klaus?” Diego presses, tapping his cheek lightly with a finger. “I can’t continue if you don’t say yes.”

 

“Yes.” Klaus says on an exhale, desperate to have more of Diego’s hands on him, feeling him up. “Definitely yes. Please.”

 

Diego snorts out a laugh, but he doesn’t hesitate to walk him backwards until the backs of Klaus’ knees hits the bed and he falls back onto it, Diego crawling on top of him. Then they’re kissing, Diego’s lips warm and soft sliding against his own. Klaus opens his mouth in a startled moan and the tip of Diego’s tongue traces his bottom lip, slips inside. It’s wet and filthy and all consuming; it steals his breath away completely.

 

“Diego,” Klaus pants when the man pulls away, faces inches away from his own. He seems to be fumbling with something next to his bed and Klaus’ face burns with shame to see that it’s a tub of some sort of lubricant. He may be inexperienced but even he recognises that when he sees it.

 

“Relax,” Diego tells him, sensing his nervousness in the way his breathing stutters, the way his chest heaves with each inhale. “I’ll be gentle. Promise.” And then he smiles, and it takes Klaus’ breath away. He’s stunning like this, hair messy, pupils dilated, lips damp and red from when he’d been kissing Klaus. He’s turned on and it absolutely shows.

 

“Okay,” Klaus whispers, and spreads his legs. Diego crawls in between them and touches him gently, guiding his legs upwards so that they bend at the knee. Then he feels fingers, warm skin and cool wetness, slide over his hole as he holds himself open; he feels slutty, and it feels good.

 

With his other hand Diego grips Klaus’ cock and strokes him slowly, rubbing his thumb Welty over the tip until Klaus’ thighs are shaking: no one has ever touched him there before, other than himself, and he’s so distracted with trying to keep himself composed that he barely even notices when Diego presses a finger into him. It doesn’t hurt - it doesn’t feel good yet, but it doesn’t really feel anything other than weird at first - and he relaxes a little. Diego said he’d be gentle, and Klaus trusts him.

 

“Okay so far?” Diego checks, thrusting his finger in and out lazily to get Klaus used to the sensation. Klaus bites his lip and nods, because he knows if he tried to talk he’d just let out a stream of unintelligible moans. Then Diego’s finger hits something inside Klaus that makes his back arch and he whines high pitched in the back of his throat involuntarily. His cock jerks in Diego’s hand and spits out precome that Diego spreads over the head with his thumb.

 

“What— what?” Klaus mewls, hips jumping even as Diego manages to slip another finger inside him. This is a stretch and it does sting a bit, but he’s cooking his knuckles and rubbing circles against the place that makes Klaus’ vision go patchy, so the pain quickly fades. It feels like any second he’s going to come; Diego must realise this because he releases Klaus’ cock to spread his hand wide over his hip and hold him steady instead.

 

“Almost ready,” Diego promises hotly, working a third fingertip in alongside his other two fingers. Klaus winces and fucks back on them confusedly, not sure if he wants to get closer or to get away. “You want it, sweetheart?”

 

The pet name sounds so natural on Diego’s tongue. Nobody has ever called him sweetheart before.

 

“Please,” Klaus whispers back simply. Diego slides his fingers out slowly, and they glisten in the light from the window when he undoes his belt and steps out of his trousers. Klaus has seen dicks before - he grew up in a house full of boy’s after all - but Diego’s dick is hard and flushed, and he reaches out to touch without even thinking about it.

 

“Hey,” Diego’s hand lands square in the centre of his chest as his fingertips brush over the tip of Diego’s cock. “Later, not now, okay? Right now I just want to be inside you.” Klaus nods, easily persuaded. Diego has one hand on his knee and one cupping his cheek as he practically bends Klaus in half, sinking into him fulls. Klaus’ breath gets caught in his throat and his fingernails dig into Diego’s upper arms; he’s so fucking full he thinks he can feel Diego in his belly.

 

“Oh,” Klaus squeaks out, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh my god, Diego.”

 

“Shh,” Diego pulls almost all the way out so that only the tip stays inside, pushes back inside slowly so that Klaus feels every inch of it, feels himself stretching to fit Diego inside. “I’ve got you. Gentle, remember?”

 

And he is, he’s so gentle, treating Klaus like glass every time he fucks back into him. He moves slowly, muscles rippling in his back as he moves between Klaus’ legs; almost subconsciously Klaus flings his arms over Diego’s shoulders and his nails scratch down the man’s back, leaving hot, red lines on the skin.

 

When Diego takes Klaus in his hand again, hand moving slowly over his cock in time with his thrusts, Klaus has absolutely no hope of holding on. He comes, wet and messy, all over Diego’s fingers. He moans, clenching around Diego and letting his head fall back against the pillow as the first few years start to roll down his cheeks. Diego chases them with his tongue, fucking into Klaus once, twice more, before he stills and grunts. Klaus can feel him coming inside him, so fucking filthy but so unbearably hot.

 

After a while, when Diego has caught his breath, he pulls out of Klaus; he winces when he feels Diego’s come drip out of him but otherwise doesn’t complain. If he hadn’t come already it would be unspeakably hot, but now it just feels gross, like he’s in desperate need of a shower.

 

Diego lays an arm out along the top of the bed and Klaus lays his head on it, curling into a ball and huddling closer to the other man. Diego’s eyes are closed but Klaus just watches him for a minute, watches the way his chest rises and falls steadily, the gentle slope of his nose and the curve of his eyelashes. He’s truly beautiful.

 

“Are people going to know now?” Klaus can’t help but ask. Now the aura of seduction has worn off he can’t help but feel a little anxious, a little unsure of what position this leaves him in.

 

“Like you said,” Diego replies with a smile, not even opening his eyes. “Let them.”

 

Those are Klaus’ own words, but he no longer feels as confident in them as he had before. He buries his nose in the crook of Diego’s elbow and bites his lip.

 

“We can’t just keep on like this though.” He points out quietly, even though he’s loathe to say it. They really can’t. It wouldn’t be proper for Diego to carry on a relationship like this with one of his servants; he’ll meet a beautiful woman and marry her someday, and then the rumours would come back to bite him in the ass for sure.

 

Diego opens his eyes now, blinking at Klaus with an unreadable expression. “You’re right,” He says evenly as Klaus tries not to let his devastation show on his face. “We can’t. So there’s only one thing we can do.”

 

Klaus nods, looking down and waiting for Diego to tell him to get out of his bed. It was only ever going to be a matter of time, Klaus knows, he just didn’t want it to be so soon.

 

Then, in a very calm voice, Diego says, “Marry me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WATCH THE SHOW I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP


End file.
